


Chaos, Creation, and the Inbetween

by Sc1m1tar



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Elemental Magic, Evil Dumbledore, Evil Voldemort, Extreme Dumbledore Bashing, Extreme Hermione Bashing, Extreme Pure-blood bashing, Extreme Weasley Bashing, F/F, F/M, Intelligent Harry!, Magically Powerful Harry!, Manipulative Dumbledore, Multi, Rune Magic, Soul Bond, maybe smut later on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:35:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28755231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sc1m1tar/pseuds/Sc1m1tar
Summary: An abused and cast out Harry Potter, and stronger for it! Watch as Harry Potter takes the wizarding world by storm. And rest be assured, there will be a reckoning.Extreme Weasley, Pure-blood, Snape, Voldemort, Hermione, Dumbledore bashing.
Relationships: Harry Potter/OC
Comments: 12
Kudos: 36





	1. Author's Note

Before we go on with this story, I want to make something clear.

I will not tolerate any "hate mail." I will not respond, and if I do, know that I am not cut deeply and crying my eyes out, or shaking with rage. 

It is a waste of my time and your time.

I will be updating tonight or tomorrow night (hopefully!).

After that, I will regularly update at least once a week depending on my schedule.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story and/or comment.

Please leave a kudos and/or a comment because it helps bolster the popularity of a story and also lifts me up.

P.S Did you know that in most fanfiction, authors receive less than 1% feedback?


	2. Harry's Status Page

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Harry's status page. I will be updating it as he discovers new allies, bonds, and abilities.

Name: Hadrian James Potter

Titles: Boy-who-lived, Hogwarts 1st year

Skills/Abilities: Unknown

Allies: None

Bonds: None

Wand: Vine, 9 3/4 inches, Dragon heartstring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? Any complaints, compliments, or other should be left in the comment section or emailed to me at renzolau203 .
> 
> Frankly, if you don't have constructive criticism, you should leave and allow others to enjoy this story, whatever that number may be.
> 
> I honestly don't care if you think my writing is "horrible, disgusting, or should never have seen the light of day." I went through a version of what happens in this chapter, albeit diluted, and this is my take. Don't feel sorry for me, and don't hate. You sound like an immature 5-year old, and unless I write about how much I enjoy white supremacy, it's unfounded and unwanted.


	3. Prologue

6- year old Harry curled into a ball to protect himself from the beating. He'd learned from past experience that while his shins and back would ache later, it was better than coughing up blood due to kicks in his soft belly and gut.

His attackers, all part of Dudley's gang, were participating in their favorite game: Harry Hitting. Piers Polkiss, a lean, rat-faced boy, was on lookout while Aaron, Jax, Brendan, Alex, and Dudley were playing Hitter. Dudley was the leader on account of being the stupidest, fattest, and meanest.

Harry felt a sixth pair of legs join the 5 others. Piers had apparently decided no one was coming. And why would they? Dudley's parents were in with the principal and superintendent and none of the teachers cared enough to stick their necks out while none of the children wanted to draw the gang's attention.

Eventually though, the bell rang, and Harry's second phase of torture for the day ended. Apparently, the Dursley's needed to "beat the freakishness" out of him through three daily periods of torture. The first being serving breakfast while dodging shoves and stuck-out legs. The second during recess with Dudley's gang. The third during dinner, eating his tiny daily share and then being lashed for "being a freak, being a delinquent," and for the various miniature problems that the Dursleys encountered daily, be they running out of milk or not being able to reach the pencil without bending down.

Finally, Harry was alone. Again. 

But this time he realized that no one was coming to save him. It was not all just a misunderstanding. No help was coming. There was no escape. It was then that Harry learned his first rule: Avoidance. He swore to always try to avoid a confrontation with those that were stronger. They couldn't hurt him if they didn't catch him.

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Across the world, a young girl cried out as an A burned into her collarbone. It glowed bronze with power, then faded, standing out starkly on her alabaster skin.

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A month later, Harry was running through the woods, desperately trying to avoid "The Big D's" gang. He'd managed to avoid them so far by slipping away to the library to read, as the library was akin to a dungeon for the dimmest bullies in the school. 

However, this time they had ambushed him straight out of class, surprising him. So here he was, running for his life. Unfortunately, he couldn't escape. He was being chased by a group of six, all at least a year older than him, and he was severely malnourished, anyway.

So it was only natural that they jumped on him and began kicking and punching him with their little 7-year old fists, leaving him no time to curl into a protective ball. And it was only when, an hour later, that they got tired, that the beating ceased, leaving a 6 and 1/2 year old Harry broken and abandoned.

This was when Harry learned his second rule: Power. Whoever had more power than the other could hurt the other. He vowed, he hungered, for power.

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At the time, the same young girl who had an A burned into her chest, was doing trapeze. As she was flying to the the other side, a P burned into her right ribcage, causing her to fall. The P glowed starkly, then faded. 

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Harry hid from the loud voices outside the hallway. He had successfully hid in the library, slipping past Dudley's gang. However, he'd fallen asleep, only to wake up to loud voices arguing outside.

He strained to make them out. One was saying "reports of bullying, and children complaining." He recognized that voice. It was Mr. Lawrence, the school principal!

The other voice was shouting now. "You will ignore them, if you know what's right for you. I still have pictures of the gentlemen's club and when you rented Petunia for the night." The other one was Vernon! Mr. Lawrence replied, "Fine, fine. Just don't have your son do it where the teachers can see it." The voices faded into nonexistence as they continued down the hallway.

Harry thought back on this. It was obvious Vernon knew things that Mr. Lawrence didn't want anyone else to see or hear. Harry may have been a 7-year old, but he had been forced to grow up fast from doing garden work, cooking, and serving since he was 4. 

From this sprung his third rule: Knowledge. Those who had knowledge could influence others. He swore to get knowledge.

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This time, the girl was doing her homework when the K appeared on the left side of her ribcage, causing her to topple from her seat. The angular, runic-like letter became luminescent as it shined.

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8 - year old Harry crept on his toes, trying his utmost to be stealthy. Ever since he had overheard the conversation between Mr. Lawrence and Vernon, he had had an aggressive interest in any and all books, causing him to sometimes miss dinner (which was 5 peas that night), so he had taken to creeping silently down to steal a slice of bread or 2.

Unfortunately, Vernon was drunk, holding a bottle of beer with at least 5 shattered behind him. Suddenly, Vernon stood up as if he had had a revelation. This caused him to see Harry.

Vernon shouted at him, his face purple with rage. "It's you, boy! Me and Petunia graciously cared for you, putting a roof over your head, feeding you, and providing you with an education, and you respond by stopping me from getting a well-deserved promotion!"

At this point the noise had escalated so much that the neighbors had woken up.

Vernon stood up and smashed the beer bottle over Harry's head, shouting "It's all because of your jobless, delinquent father and your whore of a mother that we had to care for you, you good for nothing freak!"

At this point, Harry snapped. He was already tired and aching from Dudley's beat down the night before and Vernon had now insulted his parents.

Frost crept up the sides of the kitchen, and the air turned frigid.

"All you did was abuse me, starve me, bully me, and insult me! I've been doing menial labor for you since I was 4! I have been tripped, shoved, beat, broken, starved, and abused, and all because of you! I didn't know my name till I was 5!"

A storm rumbled outside, and lightning flashed.

Vernon's face, if it was possible, turned a darker shade of royal majestic purple. 

Wind whipped inside the house.

Vernon grabbed a knife and proceeded to stab Harry. Dark red blood spilled out.

Vernon slung Harry over his shoulder, and, struggling against the winds, threw Harry into the car, and drove off, with the intention of leaving Harry on the street.

And as Harry lay there, bleeding out, he vowed to always stay in Control.

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The 8-year old girl was sleeping again, and opened her mouth in an unconscious gasp as the C burned into the area around her diaphragm.

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	4. Diagon Alley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /t/Thoughts/t/ s; Parseltongue s;

Albus Dumbledore was contemplating how best to trick Nicolas and Perenelle into lending him the stone. He already had a horcrux, but an alternate method of immortality would be appreciated. He could even say that it had exploded. It could also be used to test Harry. For the Greater Good, of course. Someone had to make sure the world didn't fall to ruins.

"Albus! Albus!" The deputy headmistress, one of his "blinders," as he liked to call them (blind followers) burst into the office, rudely interrupting his machinations.

"Yes?" He drawled.

The Headmistress barreled on, completely unaware of the sarcasm. "You dropped Mr. Potter off at the Dursleys, right?"

"I did."

"Then why is his reply addressed to Side of the street, Crosspoint Sq. alley , London, Britain?"

"Let me see that." Albus grabbed the letter. It did indeed say Side of the street, Crosspoint sq. alley

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Upon arriving in Crosspoint Sq., Albus immediately began surveying the square, looking for an lean 11-year old with a lightning bolt scar, a unruly mop of hair, and hazel eyes like his father. With luck, Harry would be a carbon copy of his father, physically, and malleable to his needs.

Finally, tired of the searching, he asked Minerva to do a searching spell. The spell left a silvery trail of magic in the air, invisible to all but its caster.

He followed Minerva as they went straight and then turned right into a dark, dingy, alley, which was dominated by a massive cardboard box made out of smaller ones taped together.

Albus led the way inside. Thud! Something whizzed by him. He looked to his left to see a throwing knife embedded in the cardboard just next to his head. He turned his head forward and surveyed the boy who threw the knife at him.

The boy was rather short, was wearing ripped-up jeans and a t-shirt, and had piercing green eyes the color of the killing curse that glowed subtly. His hair was short and irregular, like it had been hacked off. 2 knives flashed in his hand. But by far his most defining features was the scar that ran from his left side of his jaw diagonally and stopped just before his eye and the lightning bolt in vivid definition on his forehead.

"Give me one reason I shouldn't put this knife in your chest and this one in the woman behind you." The boy said, in a low, but lethal voice.

Oh dear, Albus thought. "We come from Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, and behind me is the Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress, Gryffindor Head Of House, and Transfiguration Mistress."

The boy didn't lower his knives. "I require a demonstration."

Minerva came in. "You should treat the Headmaster with more respect, boy."

"Right now, as far as I'm concerned, he's the Headmaster of nothing."

McGonagall gave the boy a stern and disapproving look. "And who are you?"

"Harry Potter."

Dumbledore almost stumbled back in shock.

This was Harry Potter? He looked nothing like his parents. All he had were Lily's green eyes. In fact, he looked more like Charlus Potter, his grandfather, and Arcturus Black, his grand-uncle. Were he to grow up with proper education and guidance, he could prove a formidable opponent.

Dumbledore recovered quickly, though. "Minerva?" He prompted.

McGonagall was similarly astonished, though she chose to show it through a jaw-drop. His comment brought her back, though. "Right." She responded, and levitated the black backpack on the floor.

This time it was Harry's turn to be startled. His eyes widened, and he sheathed the knives. "I apologize for that. Had to check. You could be some old coot trying to rape me. It's happened before."

Dumbledore's subconscious registered the insult. "May I inquire as to why you're here and not at the Dursleys?"

Harry grimaced at that. "The Dursleys dealt with my freakishness for about 8 years and then they left me here, on the street." He spat.

This boy was full of surprises. Albus fake spluttered. "How, how could they just leave a child on the street?" He knew perfectly. He'd watched them abuse him, certain that it would help shape Harry into a meek, foolish, loyal "blinder." But he never thought that they would leave him here. He'd thought that his "visit" would have taken care of any misgivings, say, that they had about taking him in

"Well, we're, well, specifically Minerva, to you Professor McGonagall, here to bring you to get your school supply. You have some money, as part of the school fund, and we can provide you with a portkey to the train station for when you have to go to school."

"Very well." Harry replied.

"Good, please grab onto this." Dumbledore brought a crowbar out of his pocket. Harry grabbed on, and with a twist, they were gone.

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Harry walked through Eeylop's Owl Emporium. He had found out that he was apparently famous in the magical world for vanquishing this "Dark Lord." Harry had seemingly vanquished this "Voldemort" by somehow blocking an unblock-able curse, which had resulted in his lightning scar.

Harry had already went to Gringotts, where, to his delight, he found that he had money, quite a lot, gotten a cauldron, gotten a trunk, went to Madame Malkin's Robes For All Occasions for robes, and was now looking for a pet before getting his wand. After being told that owls were used to communicate, he immediately knew that he had to get one.

After all, to get power he needed allies and to cultivate those relationships, he needed to be able to communicate. Unfortunately, he just didn't feel anything for any of the owls he had seen so far. They were cool, yes, but he wanted something different, something unique.

Something caught his eye and he turned left to see a brass cage containing a beautiful white snowy owl with wingtips tinged in gray stripes. The owl has yellow eyes with black pupils that pulsed with intelligence. He went over to it, and immediately knew that it was a she. Ignoring the shopkeeper's warnings of how the owl had bit 5 people before him, he stuck his finger inside the cage.

The owl regarded him with a haughty look, ruffling it's feathers. Finally, after a minute stare-off, the owl shuffled forward on it's talons and nuzzled his finger. The shopkeeper raised his eyebrows. "Well I'll be damned. That owl actually likes you. That'll be 30 galleons for the owl, cage, and basic treat pack."

Harry responded, "We won't be needing the cage or the treats."

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With the owl on his arm, McGonagall and he went to the wand shop: Ollivander's. Harry was very excited. After seeing all the feats of magic, he definitely wanted the instrument that was supposedly needed to do it.

Harry entered the dark, dingy, shop. Suddenly, he felt a presence behind him. He whirled around and pressed a knife to the neck of the person. "What are you doing?" He hissed.

"Harry!" McGonagall admonished. "This is Ollivander, he's the wand maker."

Harry dropped the knife. Ollivander took a deep breath and held his throat. "My apologies, Mr. Potter."

Ollivander looked towards McGonagall. "Fir, 9 1/2 inches, Dragon heartstring core, stiff, rather well suited for transfiguration, I believe."

"Yes. You tell me that every time I come here." McGonagall sounded weary.

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30 minutes later

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"Acacia, 8 1/2 inches, Unicorn hair core."

Harry waved it and winced as a window shattered. Ollivander just waved his wand and the window flew back together. With the amount of damage the shop had taken, it could have been destroyed several times over.

Ollivander just stared at Harry. Then he went to the back of the shop and procured another wand.

"I suspected. Holly, 11 inches, Phoenix feather core."

Harry grabbed it, but it crumbled to ash as soon as he did. Ollivander gaped.

Ollivander then handed him another wand. "Vine, 9 3/4 inches, dragon heartstring."

Harry waved it and a multitude of sparks flew out.

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	5. Note

I have not abandoned this story.

I have a bunch of tests coming up and am juggling that and a job.

I may or may not come back to this in a couple of months.

**Author's Note:**

> What do you think? Any complaints, compliments, or other should be left in the comment section or emailed to me at renzolau203@gmail.com.
> 
> Keep in mind that if you complain, it should be constructive criticism.


End file.
